Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Who Am I To Judge?

You want an ending
Sick of this life, you want a final answer
Who am I to judge?
A mere purveyor of goods
So step inside
See what it is I can offer

For tradition, a rope
Feel it in your hands
Soft and smooth
Woven from the hair of a thousand children
Who never felt the flush of a first kiss
Never feel in love, and out, and in love again
Never said goodbye knowing it was the last time
They were not good, or evil
They never had a chance to choose
Yes, try the rope
Feel your world shrink to nothing
As your muscles kick and give way
And bowels loosen in final shame
Perhaps no, something more modern

Take this knife
Feel the weight in your hand
See the shine and glint of light on the blade
Steel forged in a thousand dreams forsaken
Iron harvested from the blood of ten thousand babies
Born unliving
Mourned for a life never seen
A simple cut is all it takes
Sharp pain fades to a dull throb
As your lifeblood flows through jagged tears in flesh
Pooling below you
Leaving stains that last a lifetime
But not yours
No, this is not for you

Simpler, easier, this tub
Drown your sorrows
In the tears of millions left behind
Mourning the lives lost
Cursing inaction
Desperately wondering
what more could have been done?
What was left unsaid, that could have stopped this tragedy?
This meaningless waste

Drown your sorrows and forget
Each one you leave  behind
All touched by your life
More by your death
Each left incomplete
Desperately seeking answers
To questions unheard
Searching for words
That remain unwritten
Lost now forever
As is hope
As is light
As is all

Who am I to judge?
One who sees
One who knows
One who loves

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